Well, mr. zippy's party went pretty a-o-k. All the guests arrived alive, the waiter was well tipped and we all rolled out of there sated. Those of you fortunate enough to get the posted snaps of the evening can see for yourselves that fun was had by all. The hit of the evening, by far, was the R. Lee Ermey action figure mr. zippy received from his sweet, demure wife (via the prize mule aka party guest #1 -- thanks prize mule!).

Getting there was a bit of a scuffle, though, as mr. zippy wanted to leave early "in case we get lost on the way." I did everything I could to waste time --- ironed three different grass skirts, weaved traditional dance costumes from corn husks, milked two cows, three goats and an anteater using nothing but my good looks and keegle exercises (which wasn't easy, let me tell you!), wrote a 4,000 stanza epic poem ("Ode To Ironman") then rewrote it in haiku ("I Weep"), hammered out a bronze bust of the Queen of England and STILL we managed to be on our way far too early.

I commenced to bitching as soon as I was belted in. Bitch. Bitch. Bitch. Bitch. Bitch. When we missed our exit, mr. zippy felt vindicated we'd left so early (I was secretly happy and praying we'd miss the next turn around, but no such luck). When we at last arrived at the restaurant, mr. zippy was quite pleased with himself and I was still bitching. The only difference was, now we were on foot rather than in the car and he felt good enough to playfully shove me with an "I told you so" boast. When we approached the host I said, "Zippy for 7pm." "Yes," he said. "Is this still for eight?" that's when mr. zippy's orbs bonked out. I slugged him in the shoulder and said "See? I told you we were too early."

Then the prize mule arrived, and that was good, followed by mr and mrs o, and that was good, then mrs. prize mule arrived and all was right in the world. GREAT food. I'd love to tell you more about it, but that might require a logistical declaration that I'm not prepared to post in the public domain. But, it was so good I swear I could eat that meal every day and not grow tired of it. YUM! I wish that for everyone.

And then R. Lee Ermey came to town in the form of one raunchy, foul-mouthed 12" action figure and laughter seized our sides and smiles tackled our faces until we had to set him aside for fear we would not get our mouths wrapped around our sinfully delicious desserts. The HORROR!

Good friends, good food, good humor. What more does one need?